


When I Stop I Catch Myself

by YanzaDracan



Series: We All Fall Down [2]
Category: Actor RPF, Kane (Band), Leverage RPF, Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Apocalypse, Alternate Universe - Post-Apocalypse, Angst and Humor, BAMF!Jensen, Drama, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Family Drama, Het and Slash, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Sexual Content, Injury Recovery, Language, Leaving Home, M/M, Major Character Injury, Multi, Non-Graphic Violence, Original Character(s), Past Relationship(s), Relationship(s), Sexual Content, Slash, Threesome - M/M/M, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-03
Updated: 2012-07-03
Packaged: 2017-11-09 02:48:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/450414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YanzaDracan/pseuds/YanzaDracan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The massive earth changes happen Thanksgiving 2012. A sanctuary in all the chaos and destruction is the SC-KANE ranch in Broken Bow, OK.  Who survived and what happens next? Will his family accept Jensen and sacrifices he made for them? Based on the earth changes maps of Gordon Michael Scallion. </p><p>Picks up at the where Jensen leaves the hospital in <b><i>We All Fall Down</i></b>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When I Stop I Catch Myself

**Author's Note:**

> **DISCLAIMER:** With the exception of the work noted as being originally mine, all works of fiction and characters thereof belong to their original creators/studios/producers/publishers. No money is being earned, and they are used without permission. In the case of RPS, the people being used as characters belong to themselves. Everything I've written is complete fiction. Any goofs, gaffs, bending of facts, or mistakes are mine.

Waiting for the physical therapist to appear for his next session of torture, Jensen sat with a detached air, taking stock of his bare legs.

His left leg didn’t look too bad. The break had been clean, and the leg healed with no problems. It was his right leg he stared at with morbid fascination. The lattices of scarring from the surgeries were an angry red tic-tac-toe board from mid-thigh to mid-shin. Because of the crushing injury there was an artificial joint and bone grafts all wrapped up in a cybernetic brace that looked like something from his _Dark Angel_ days.

For all the surgeries, fancy braces and implants, he would never regain 100% use of the leg. There were some things that science had not yet learned how to duplicate. He shouldn’t complain ... He still had ‘his’ leg. He could be sitting here staring at a stump if he hadn’t let them use their experimental hardware. His mouth twisted in a wry smile. He’d just have to get a really cool cane to compliment his scars ... Not that anyone would be seeing his naked legs other his doctors anytime soon. With the vast array of scars on his body, and those on his face, one thing was for sure, if he let himself care for someone again, he knew it would be for him and not the pretty package.

Who was he kidding ... Christian and Steve had been his last shot. He’d sent them back to the ranch two weeks ago with nothing agreed on other than they were all idiots. For people that made their living writing and acting they all sucked at communicating in real life. Shaking off his mood, he stood and leaning on his walker headed for the parallel bars. His leg wasn’t going to get any stronger sitting around feeling sorry for himself.

~@~@~@~

Two weeks later, he’d graduated from a walker to crutches to a cane. He’d packed the toiletries and clothes that Christian and Steve had brought him from the ranch, and was sitting out front with Spencer waiting for his ride. The doctors had bitched, both Robs had bitched, but he was tired … Tired of everything. Other than continuing his strengthening exercises, everything that could be done had been, so he called Rob, signed himself out AMA and was enjoying the mid-day sun after almost three months since his injury.

The ride was quiet from the hospital to Norman allowing Jensen to start to relax. After settling in the guest room, he and Spencer headed for the backyard where they stayed until the Colonel called them for supper.

Sitting on the deck enjoying the summer evening, Jensen took a deep drag off his cigarette. He waited until the two Robs had settled, then took a drink of beer to wet his suddenly dry throat.

“Thanks for coming to get me today.” He took a quick glance from under his lashes at the two men. “I won’t be in your hair long. I just need a day or two to figure out which direction to go.”

Both men frowned at the younger man.

“No rush.”

“You’re not going back to the ranch?” They spoke simultaneously.

Jensen looked away. He knew Riggle had used him and their friendship shamelessly, but at the same time he and his partner had always been there when Jensen needed somewhere to go.

“No.”

They started to protest, but Jensen raised his hand to stop them.

“I can’t. I’m such a fuckin’ mess there’s no way I can be there.” He rubbed a hand over his face.

“We have people …” Riggle started.

Jensen shook his head.

“No more. No more doctors … Just no more.”

“Jensen …”

He stood stiffly and headed toward the house.

“Good night.” He shut the door firmly behind him.

With a sigh they exchanged a look and settled back to enjoy the end of the evening.

Jensen was still agitated the next morning so with the hope of keeping him close, the Colonel asked him to come to the office around ten.

“Hey Jake ...” Riley greeted him with a smile. “He said for you to go on in.”

Riggle was pouring a cup of coffee when he and Spencer entered.

“Just in time.”

He poured a second cup as Jensen settled in the chair.

“You feel up to making a trip to Dallas?”

He watched the younger man over the rim of his cup.

Green eyes narrowed, but before Jensen could speak, Riggle continued.

“I’ve got dispatches I need to get there today and before you get your panties in a knot I need you to wait for responses so you might be there a day or two. That’s why I’m asking you to go. I can’t spare anyone because of the wait.”

The Colonel walked to his desk and picked up pouch that he handed to Jensen. Man and dog stalked out of the office.  

~@~@~@~

Jensen dropped the pouch on the Commander’s desk at the re-activated Naval air Station in Grand Prairie, Texas.

“Got a place to stay, Mr. Gray?” The Commander asked.

“Yeah. Gonna look in on my family in Richardson.”

“We should be ready for you in two days. Come around noon, and we’ll get you on your way.”

With a curt nod, Jensen and Spencer headed to the truck.

Though it was a little after midday, traffic was still light so it seemed to take no time before he found himself parked up the street from his parents’ house, where he simply sat and stared. A car pulled in the driveway. He watched, hungry for any sight of his family as his mother and sister climbed out of the car. He had not seen them in person in almost four years and had not talked to them in two. Though it was summer, his lightweight duster swirled around his legs in the light breeze, covering his guns as he slipped from his truck, Spencer hard on his heels.

As he stepped on the porch, Spencer moved to guard just as Jensen heard a click. His cane fell to the ground as his pistol was in his hand and aimed before there was conscious thought. The front door opened and his dad rushed out but stopped as a gun barrel appeared at the end of his nose.

Keeping his voice calm, Alan Ackles spoke to the man who’d come around the house with a shotgun.

“Greg, put the gun down. This is Jensen.”

Alan didn’t switch his attention until Greg lowered his gun only to look down and see the Mellinois crouched close enough to take him down with one leap.

“Toss it.” Jensen growled. “Wouldn’t want ya gettin’ any ideas ‘bout shootin’ my dog.” He drawled.

Once the shotgun lay on the ground, Jensen turned back to his dad. Seeing no weapons, he holstered both guns, picked up his cane and called Spencer to heel.

“Hey.” Wary green eyes watched his father’s reactions.

“Thank God.”

Alan wrapped his arms around the stiff body and enjoyed being able to hug his middle child.

“We’ve prayed every day since you disappeared from the ranch. Then when Steve called and said you’d been hurt … Well … God answered our prayers for your safe return.”

Keeping hold of Jensen’s arm Alan moved toward the door.

“Where’s your bags? You are staying? You mother will be so thrilled to see you. Greg, come on, we’ll get Jensen’s things later.”

Spirits rising, though still wary, Jensen shushed Spencer’s quiet grumbling at Alan’s hand on his arm and followed his father.

Inside he was nearly overwhelmed by this mother, brother and sister exclaiming their happiness at seeing him while chastising him for disappearing. He was properly introduced to Greg, MacKenzie’s boyfriend and reacquainted himself with his sister-in-law, niece and nephew. During the uproar, Spencer stayed plastered against Jensen’s bad leg, keeping overzealous family members from adding to the ache of the over used joint.

“Can you put me up for a couple days? I have to wait on some paperwork to take back north.” Jensen asked. “I know you said you were overcrowded so I can bunk on the couch or the floor. Spencer and I don’t need much.”

His mother turned away from the flat green eyes that used to sparkle with life and humor. Fussing with the pillow that didn’t need straightened, she looked back at him.

“There’s no need to sleep on the floor. The sofa makes a perfectly comfortable bed.” She teased.

His only response was to nod and stand.

“I’ll just go get my gear.”

Spencer automatically moved out on point, clearing the path. Even with cruise control the trip made his still weak knee throb and he leaned heavily on the cane they’d given him at the hospital. If he noticed the frowns that followed him, he kept it to himself, and when Greg would have followed to offer his help, MacKenzie pulled him back.

“He won’t welcome your help, but thanks for thinking about it.”

“He’s so different.” Donna whispered more to herself than her husband.

“Christian and Steve warned us.”

“I know, but to see it in person made it sink home.”

Everyone finally relaxed about half way through dinner allowing man and dog to both relax and enjoy. Getting ready for bed, Jensen was changing into lightweight sweats, when a gasp behind him had him itching for his guns, but Spencer’s slow thumping tail let him finish pulling his pants on before turning around to meet his mother’s anxious expression.

“I’m fine, mom. Did you need something?”

“I just wanted to spend a little time with you before you went to sleep.” Her eyes darted to the now covered right leg then back to his face. “You know you’re welcome here as long as you want. I don’t know what happened between you, Christian and Steve …” She trailed off when the scarred, but still handsome face got a closed off expression.

“I appreciate it, mom, but even I can see you’ve got your hands full, and to tell the truth, I’m not fit to be around people at the moment.”

“But …”

“Mom.” A note of warning crept into the rough voice.

Donna ignored it. This was still her son and she was going to have her say.

“You need to be with family either here or at the ranch. This acting like a lone wolf going off to lick his wounds isn’t you. You’ve always taken comfort in your friends and family.”

“Fat lot of good that did me. I’m facing facts, mom. I’m no good to anyone. My brain’s still in a war zone, y’all look at me like I’m going to go postal any minute, and the people at the ranch wallow in quilt over their roles in the giant fuck-up that’s my life.”

“Jensen Ross Ackles!”

“Sorry for the language, mom, but that’s the whole of it.”

“It’s not like you to be bitter. Christian and Steve love you.”

The laugh that burst out scared Donna with its bitterness.

“The one time I put myself first, took something I wanted for me, it all went to shit at the first bump in the road.”

“They love you. I can hear when I talk to them…when they talk about you.”

“Funny way of showin’ it.” He snarled.

A smack on the arm pulled a surprised yelp from Jensen and a growl from Spencer.

“What was that for?”

“Did you fight for what you wanted?”

“Why should I? They made their position clear that night in the yard. Sure in the hospital it was all about how they’d screwed up … How we should have talked it out instead of walking away mad.”

“What’s wrong with that? Christian admitting to being wrong’s right up there with the earth changes.” She teased.

“That’s just it. I’ll never be first. It’ll always be an apology because they turn to each other first. I’ll always be an afterthought.”

Jensen ran his hands over his face. _*God this was exhausting.*_

“Well now you just sound like a teenage girl.”

“You’re right.” His face turned hard. “The quicker I put this crap behind me, the smoother things will be. Good night, mom.”

Jensen stretched out his bad leg and turned his back on where she sat on the edge of the sofa bed.

~@~@~@~

Until he left, Jensen’s mother continued to push until he threw his hands in the air and stalked out the door, his posture stiff with anger he took his aching knee and cane to the river’s edge where Spencer flopped down at his feet while he smoked.

Jensen was calmer when he returned to the house to leave for the Naval Air Station. Heading into the living room where his pack sat on the sofa, he stopped to stare when he saw his grandfather’s Blackthorn cane sitting by his pack. His ran his hands lovingly over the silver wolf’s head before twisting it until it … There … Then pulled … Out a dirk that was just as deadly as it was beautiful. Strapping the one he’d gotten from the hospital to his pack, a small smile graced the full lips. Now he had a cane for all occasions ... Each with its own surprise inside.

His family was scattered across the front of the house between him and his truck. He sighed in relief as he fastened his seat belt and headed for Grand Prairie. After so much time alone, his family had been loving, but exhausting. Hopefully by the time he got to Norman, he’d have some idea of what he was going to do next.

~@~@~@~

The third day back from Dallas, and Jensen could see both Robs starting to gnaw their knuckles to keep from grilling him about his visit with his parents and his future plans. Removing himself from the line of fire, he took Spencer to one of the field training obstacle courses that had been set up on the football field. He wanted to test his limits and start working out alternatives to compensate for his bad leg.

After the second lap, he stretched out in the grass, chest heaving, sweat pooling in the hollows of his body. Spencer stood from where he’d been stretched out beside his master causing Jensen to raise up on his elbows to see who was approaching. Recognizing his Captain, Jensen sat up and caught the bottle of water the man tossed at him.

“Cap’n.”

“You ever gonna call me Jack?”

He reached down a hand to help Jensen up.

“You’ll stiffen if you stay down there too long.”

“When’d you become my nursemaid?”

“’Bout the time The Colonel set your pretty ass in my squad and gave me a look telling me my life was forfeit if you didn’t come back.” He gave Jensen a mock frown.

“Ya damn near caused me to have a stroke havin’ to tell Riggle you’d been hurt.” The officer ducked his head so Jensen couldn’t see his face.

“A couple days later these two long haired guys come through camp like Sherman through Georgia, and I got to wondering why Christian Kane and Steve Carlson were headed for Riggle’s office.” A choked gasp came from Jensen. “Ya see my wife is one of those crazy ass Kaniacs. Always had pictures of those two plastered everywhere, and you know who was standing behind those two was this pretty boy that played one of my favorite characters. Made me wonder why Jensen Ackles would be hiding out with my squad callin’ himself Jake Gray?” Jensen paled but stayed silent. “The two guys I saw were ready to rip this place apart to get information from The Colonel so I decided to get the skinny from the source. Why ain’t you with Kane and Carlson” He looked at Jensen expectantly.

Tone defensive, Jensen finally looked up.

“I don’t care how big a fan you are, it’s really none of your business, but …” He held up his hand when Jack would have interrupted. “Because you hauled my ass out of that cave I’ll tell you this much. It’s complicated, messy, and painful, and I just don’t have the energy or the heart left to work it out. It’s too much … I’ve been through too much. I don’t expect you to understand, and I really don’t care.” He picked up his cane and jacket and started across the field.

“That just sounds like you’re feelin’ sorry for yourself.” Jack called.

His answer was a one finger salute.

~@~@~@~

Jensen was up before the rest of the house, and was never seen though his bed and shower were used. The Colonel put the word out if anyone saw Jake Gray they were to call his office immediately. Captain Jack Dawson only caught glimpses of the man during the day ... Jensen’s skill at being invisible had only gotten scarier since his injury. His lack of mobility made him sneakier than ever, and it was giving Jack a headache to try and keep track of him. A phone call from his wife had been a curse until he thought of Jensen. He might have a perfect solution to get Jensen the space he wanted and maybe stop The Colonel from being a pain in everyone’s ass.

Jensen let the hot water pound the stiffness out of his shoulders. It would soon be a week since he left the hospital. It was time to disappear. He could practically hear the Robs thinking about calling the ranch. While his leg slowed him down, he found he could use that to his advantage. Now he just needed to decide where he was going when he left.

A soft growl from under the bench where he sat tying his boots warned him someone had entered the locker room though he’d heard the soft footfalls about the same time Spencer gave warning. That told him it was someone the dog knew.

“Quit skulking around corners, Cap’n. I’m starting to feel like I have a stalker.” Jensen chided.

“How did you …”

Jensen cocked an eyebrow at his former commanding officer.

“Yeah I never could sneak up on you two.” He grumbled. Taking a deep breath, Jack began his pitch. “Look, I know you’re gettin’ ready to fly on outta here.”

Green eyes narrowed with suspicion as they began to turn gold with anger. Not wanting to be the brunt of Jensen’s temper, Jack hurried his explanation.

“You remember me tellin’ you I was TAD at Ft. Sill when the quakes went down?”

Jensen nodded, still wary.

“I’m from Ft. Carson, outside Colorado Springs. My wife is still there livin’ with her family. She called me the other day and said they’re having a lot of problems. They’re not sending me back to Ft. Carson for another three months …” His expression turned pleading. “You need a bolt hole, and my family needs help.”

Jensen watched his friend closely for any signs of deceit. The man’s face was open, his body language conveying his worry.

“One condition.” Jensen’s voice was gruff.

“Name it.”

“No one knows.”

“But …”

“Does The Colonel know you been shadowing me?”

“No.”

“Give me directions and let your family know I’m coming so I don’t get shot again.”

“When should I tell them to expect you?”

“When they see me. The less you know the easier it’ll be for you.”

Jensen stood, but before he could take a step he was engulfed in the larger man’s arms.

“You don’t know what this means to me.”

Jensen let himself relax for a second, savoring having hard muscular arms wrapped around him. Eyes closed he could almost feel Christian until he breathed in ... He took a quick step back.

“No problem as long as it’s Jake Gray you tell them is coming and not Jensen Ackles. I appreciate the hideout.” Jensen joked and slapped the man on the back. “Now get out of here before people start to talk.”

Captain Jack Dawson knew within hours of Jensen’s leaving. Colonel Riggle tore through the Norman campus like a whirlwind looking for traces of the man, scattering men and women in his path as he searched.

A week later he got a call from his wife telling him she’d received his letter and was glad things were returning to normal, she missed him, loved him, and hoped he would be home soon.

A month later, he was going over reports with Cpl. Riley when the clerk transferred a call to the Colonel. The crack in the door let Jack hear bits of the conversation.

“I don’t know where he is, Kane. He checked himself out of the hospital three weeks ago and disappeared.” The man’s voice sounded sad and exhausted.

Stomping hard on his guilt, he finished up with Riley and left to find his squad. He only had to keep his silence two more months.

~@~@~@~

Looking around the small apartment, Jensen sighed tiredly. The trip, though only six hundred miles had taken a toll. Thankfully the letter Jack had given him saved lengthy explanations. James Cooper, his wife, Dorothy, and Jack’s wife, Denise had welcomed him, fed him, taken in his state of exhaustion, and showed him to the foreman’s apartment over the barn. Tomorrow was a new day.

After breakfast, Jim and Denise gave him a tour of the house and outbuildings. The Coopers raised and trained champion cutting horses before the quakes so had a good size herd of cattle along with their dozen Quarter Horses. Their land extended across Fountain Creek and into the eastern foothills where many of the displaced set up camp much like they had in the State Park that bordered ho … The SC-KANE Ranch. He and Jim had ridden out after lunch so the older man could show him their property lines. Seeing all the repaired places in the fence and the paths that were worn in the ground, Jensen began formulating a plan starting with setting some simple alarms that would alert them if anyone climbed through or cut the fence.

He wanted to get a feel for the type of people that were invading the Cooper’s ranch ... If they were just good people trying to survive, or if they were like the gangs they’d hunted in Oklahoma. After dinner, he began sketching out his plans. Insisting no one go away from the house or barn alone, Jensen asked which one of the horses was the most steadfast because he wanted to ride out for several days, and get a feel for the type of people coming onto the ranch.

“Dark buckskin mare ... She’s steady as they come. Her name’s Delta … Can even shoot off her if need be.” Jim commented.

“How many days worth of supplies will you need?” Dorothy chimed in.

“Probably a week, but you don’t need to put yourself out ...”

“Nonsense. No problem at all.” The older woman soothed.

“You may as well give in.” Denise added. “You won’t win this argument.”

Smoking his after dinner cigarette as he headed toward the barn, he stopped to watch the horses finally picking out Delta when the others had stopped milling around searching for the last bite of grain. Spencer perked his ears at the mam cat and her kittens, ignoring man and dog as she herded the month old nuisances back inside.

“Better let that one go, Pard.” He advised the Mellinois. “She’ll rip you a new one without turnin’ a hair.”

The dog snorted his agreement then followed Jensen up the stairs.

~@~@~@~

Three days they patrolled the outermost boundary of the Coopers’ ranch. Delta was all Jim had claimed and a little more. Jensen was seriously considering making an offer for the mare when it hit him he didn’t have anywhere to keep her. He supposed the Coopers would board her until he got settled, but the depression that hit at the realization he was homeless stuck with him throughout his patrol.

He’d seen several groups of people that appeared ragged around the edges, but were mostly family groupings, and when they noticed the rider watching the fence lines they found other paths to travel. He didn’t see any sign that any of the groups were aggressive or senselessly destructive.

Sitting by his fire sipping Jack Daniels from a flask he kept in his saddle bags, he gave in ... Gave in to the depression over losing Christian and Steve, his looks, the use of his leg, and his family, all of it. Jensen gave free rein to every emotion he’d repressed since the day he drove away from the SC-KANE Ranch. Thinking it’d be a matter of getting drunk and maybe shedding a tear or two, Jensen was totally unprepared for the pain that knifed through his body when he gave his emotions free rein. So great was the pain his body curled into a fetal position in the dirt and waited for it to release its grip on his insides. When Jensen came back to himself, the fire had burnt down to coals and Spencer was pressed against his back offering comfort the only way he could. Burying his face in the dog’s ruff, Jensen allowed the rest of his tears to flow.

~@~@~@~

The next morning, he was exhausted, but felt lighter ... Not as emotionally brittle as when he’d left the hospital. Finishing his breakfast and dowsing the fire, he signaled Spencer to quarter out ahead. When the dog stopped and crouched, hackles raised, Jensen stepped off the mare, pulled his rifle from the scabbard, and silently cursing his bad leg eased down on his belly beside the Mellinois.

Looking through his spotter’s scope, he counted four women and a dozen children including a couple that looked less than a year old. Getting back to his feet, he mounted Delta, and sent Spencer in a wide arc in case there were others. He would approach the women from the side as though he was riding the fence line, and see how things developed.

One of the women was getting ready to cut the fence when they heard the soft drawl.

“Mornin’ ladies.”

Delta snorted causing everyone’s head to swivel in their direction. He pointed his rifle at the eldest woman as she made move toward hers.

“Bein’ as how you were gettin’ ready to cut my fence don’t you think it’s a mite rude to be reachin’ for your rifle?” Jensen’s voice remained soft.

“We were just …”

A scream and shouted commands in German came from Jensen’s left. A pistol appeared in Jensen’s right hand to cover the women as he braced the rifle against his left hip, pointed toward the shouts. Delta stood like a statue waiting for any commands her rider would give using his legs and heels instead of the reins that lay slack on her neck.

“You can stop yelling! He doesn’t speak German!” Jensen yelled.

A blonde woman of about 30 stood out of the tall grass. When she bent to pick up something Spencer growled and moved between her and what was probably her gun.

“Why don’t you just move over here with your friends?” Jensen ordered then gave a command to Spencer ... In Gaelic.

“I thought all attack dogs were trained in German.” The blonde grumbled as she joined the others.

“Well … Spencer and I are a couple of odd ducks.” Jensen grinned as Spencer dropped the small .22 rifle at Delta’s feet.

“Now would one of you ladies care to explain why you’re cuttin’ my fence?”

The entire group remained silent. Even the toddlers were quiet. Resting the rifle across the saddle, Jensen pulled out his cell phone and dialed Denise, giving his location telling her to bring the truck.

“Where are you taking us?” The eldest asked.

“Since we’re not that far from Ft. Carson, and the family has a connection or two in the military, I suppose we’ll start there.” Jensen watched closely for their reactions.

A whole conversation was carried out between the women with looks and shifts in body language. He watched Spencer look back toward the ranch, so knew someone was coming. He grinned when he saw Denise in the truck and her mother driving their SUV a short way from where they waited.

“If y’all wanna walk down to the GATE, we’ll get you loaded up.” Jensen emphasized the word gate. The women looked sheepish as they walked across the field.

“We need to go back to our camp before we go to the fort we left several of our group behind.”

“Do you have vehicles?” Jensen asked.

The woman nodded.

“We stopped where they stopped.”

“You knew the ranch wasn’t far. Why not come to the house instead of pilfering and destroying fences?”

Her expression turned dark.

“We have experienced very little kindness from strangers on this trip. There’s only so many times you can get kicked in the teeth before you quit trying. You can call me Erin, and you are …”

“Jake.” Jensen answered while nodding his agreement. “Preachin’ to the choir, Sister.”

While they helped the women and children pack their belongings, they learned the group was all military dependents. They had been on their way to join their soldiers for Thanksgiving when the quakes happened while they were traveling. The women didn’t know if their family members had survived.

Jensen returned to the main house where he loaded cans of gas into his truck and returned to try and salvage the women’s vehicles. He’d gotten two of the four vehicles running when a warning grumble from Spencer alerted him to someone moving toward the jeep where he was elbows deep in the engine.

“Something I can help you with?” His tone was terse.

“You carry yourself like you’re military so I was wondering if you might know any of our people.”

“I’m not military ... I was a civilian scout.”

“You have a family?” She sidled a little closer.

“Gwen!” A grey-haired woman shouted from across the camp.

The red-headed young woman blushed then gasped when she looked back at Jensen seeing his scars for the first time in the light. Without another word she scurried off to finish her packing. With a sigh, Jensen shut the hood of the Jeep and moved into the driver’s seat. Engine idling smoothly, he slammed the hood and came face to face with Erin.

“Don’t mind Gwen … Even with everything’s that’s happened the young don’t always understand the sacrifices we make for them.”

“Had ‘em awhile so I’m used to it.” He shrugged away her concern.

Jensen turned to shut down the engine ... A delicate but strong hand stopped him.

“Don’t sell yourself short. You still have a lot of heart left to offer.”

He snorted his disbelief, but Erin ignored him.

“You didn’t have to help us. You could have just turned everyone over to the authorities and washed your hands of the whole thing. That’s not the actions of a person with no heart left.”

To make sure everyone made it to the base, Denise took the lead and the children since as an officer’s wife she had certain access. Having the children guaranteed the others followed. Just because there’d been civility between them didn’t mean there was trust. Jensen called Jim to have the older man take his place. He didn’t want to take the chance that word would get back to Riggle of his location.

When the Coopers returned they had stories of heartbreak and joy. More than half the women and children had been reunited with their spouses who’d been transferred to Ft. Carson prior to the quakes while their families had been convoying cross country to get to the new duty station. Their journey of nearly two years was finally at an end.

Jensen listened to the stories over supper and for the first time thought about returning to the SC-KANE Ranch, if for no other reason than to finish the book on that part of his life or open a new chapter. His emotional breakdown leeched away most of the bitterness and other negative emotions he’d been carrying since the night he left. Jack wouldn’t be home until Thanksgiving so there was still time to decide where to go when he left Fountain.

~@~@~@~

A week spent cleaning up the women’s campsite gave Jensen plenty of time to think about where he wanted to go after Jack returned. The scarred parts of his psyche balked at the thought of going back to Oklahoma while his heart urged him to go home ... Home ... After Jared, home had always been wherever Christian and Steve lived ... Even when he was married to Danneel. Riding Delta around the perimeter of the Cooper Ranch every day did nothing to settle the part of him that wanted to be riding Stoney, and chasing black cows across SC-KANE land.

A few incidents around the ranch were dealt with in a harsh enough manner that rumors flying around Fountain reached Ft. Carson about the hired man with the scarred face at Captain Dawson’s place. They’d all gotten a chuckle about it over the dinner table, Jim mentioning the red-headed teenager that carried on the whole trip from the ranch to the base about Jake’s scars.

“Whatever keeps the peace.” Jensen shrugged.

Maybe he’d go higher in the mountains instead of the ranch, but everyone had seen his face and leg. They knew he wasn’t pretty anymore. They didn’t seem to care. His mind ran circles about where he should go, and the aspens were turning. Winter could arrive any day with the holidays not far behind.

~@~@~@~

Sergeant Tom Morgan listened to the talk about the Coopers and their man, Jake, as he enjoyed the feel of his wife and child tucked against his side. Most of the states had trouble with bandits and outlaws after the earthquakes, but Oklahoma seemed to have been the worst. He’d spent six months TAD in Norman and was drinking buddies with a couple Special Forces guys whose squad worked with a scout that had a dog ... He’d be sending a message to see if they knew anything about the man’s whereabouts. He tucked Erin in closer, and hoped his message put someone else’s mind at ease.

~@~@~@~

Captain Jack Dawson stood at attention in front of Colonel Riggle’s desk. His time in Oklahoma was finished and he was anxious to get back to Colorado, and his family. The Colonel closed his file and looked at the form clipped to the front awaiting his signature. Though it was November Jack could feel the sweat trickling down his spine. Riggle folded his hands over the file.

“You knew where he was all this time?”

“Who, Sir.”

“Gray and his flea bag.”

“How would I know that, Sir?”

“One of your squad got an email from Ft. Carson asking about a man with scars and a dog.”

“I wouldn’t know about that, Sir.”

He was Special Forces. There was no way a Marine was going to make him crack.

“Seems he’s working at your in-laws ranch.”

“My wife’s parents are good people, Sir. Always willing to give folks a hand up.”

Frustrated, The Colonel scrawled his name on Dawson’s orders.

“If you happen to stumble over your former scout that you don’t know is at your in-laws … Tell him to get his ass home.”

“If I see anyone fitting that description, I will pass along your message, Sir!”

Jack snapped a salute and snatched his orders before the Colonel changed his mind.

Now all he had to do was get home.

~@~@~@~

Stepping across the threshold into the main house, Jensen was hit with the happy anticipation in the room. Ah, they must have heard from Jack. His suspicion was confirmed over supper when Denise informed him Jack would be home in time to celebrate Thanksgiving. Jensen smiled at their good fortune, and started mentally preparing to leave.

Running the brush over the buckskin hide, Jensen talked quietly to Delta, allowing the thoughts rolling through his mind to tumble off his tongue like a mountain stream. Resting his forehead against hers he wondered if he had become too emotionally crippled to relate to humans on the same level he seemed to be able to relate to his animals. Chastising himself, he turned the mare out into the corral and returned to finish several fix-it projects before Jack got home. As he worked he sang softly to himself never realizing it was songs he’d written with Steve.

A tail thumping against wooden stalls alerted Jensen he was no longer alone. He turned to see Jim squatted down to scratch the Mellinois’ belly.

“Denise plays this CD Jack sent her made by some fellas in Oklahoma. Those songs sound a lot like what you’re singing.”

A deep flush crept over Jensen’s face.

“Didn’t even realize I was singin’.”

He turned to gather up his tools, refusing to look at the older man. A leathery hand on his arm stopped his movements.

“You’ve done good work here, son, but I think it’s time for you to head home.”

Troubled green eyes met brown that were clouded with age.

“I …”

Jim held up his hand to stop whatever Jensen was about to say.

“When you leave, you hitch up that old one horse trailer that’s ‘round back of the barn, and take Delta and Spencer home.”

“But …”

“Just a small token for all that you’ve done for this family.”

He patted the broad shoulder as he turned to leave.

“Jim …”

“It’ll be fine. You’ll see.” He paused at the door. “Oh … Almost forgot. Supper’s ready.”

~@~@~@~

Jensen’s first instinct was to leave before Jack got home, but his mother’s voice scolding in his head kept him from acting rudely after Jack and the Coopers had opened their home to him ... So he stayed.

First everyone insisted he couldn’t leave on the holiday. Then Jack cornered him and wanted a detailed rundown of what had been happening at the ranch, which delayed him another week until Jack was settled in with his unit at Ft. Carson. The second week of December saw him loading his truck. Jack and Jim had helped him outfit the single horse trailer to keep Delta as comfortable as possible while traveling 800 miles in winter conditions. The pickup was stuffed with supplies for man and beast as Denise and Dorothy fussed over the travelers. Jensen started to protest, but seeing the stubborn expressions worn by mother and daughter, he gave in with a soft _‘Thank you’_. Finally it was just him and Jack.

“Jensen …”

“Jack.”

“At least you quit calling me Cap’n.” He chuckled. “Go home, Jensen. Give your family a chance.”

“What if …” The reddish brown head was bowed, Jensen’s long hair hiding his face.

“You’ll never know unless you go. I’ve never known you to be afraid of anything.”

“Not being afraid is easy when you don’t care.”

Jensen’s words chilled Jack to his core. He had suspected, but to have it confirmed made him want to yell at the younger man ... A lot. Not wanting their parting words to be ones of anger, he bit them back.

“Don’t worry. I don’t feel that way anymore.”

Jensen rubbed gloved hands over his face.

“You don’t have to leave.”

“Yeah … I do. I can’t keep living in limbo.”

Grabbing his former scout into a hug, Jack squeezed to emphasize his words.

“You have a home if you need one, but I don’t think you will.”

Grinning, Jack shut the truck door.

“Let us know when you settle in some place.”

“I will.”

Tugging his bottom lip between his teeth, Jensen shoved his hair back.

“Thank your family for me.” He paused. “Thanks, Jack. You’ve been a good friend even when I didn’t deserve one.”

“Jake was a crazy son-of-a-bitch, but I like Jensen better.”

He tapped the door and stepped back.

“Get out of here.”

Mindful of the trailer behind, when Jensen got to the end of the driveway, he paused as though undecided where he was going ... Then turned toward Oklahoma.

~@~@~@~

The roads were snow covered, but the lack of traffic made the traction good, but Jensen was still cautious. He stopped only long enough to take care of his body’s needs and walk Spencer and give Delta a bit of a respite. By the time they reached Amarillo, night had fallen and it had begun to snow.

Stopping at several motels that had made it through the hard times after the quakes, he finally found one that had a stable where Delta could spend the night in comfort. By the time he shut the door on his room, all he wanted was to fall across the bed and sleep, but the voices in his head that sounded like various family members goaded him until he stripped down and climbed in the shower.

Revived enough to use the room’s microwave to heat food from the cooler the Coopers provided, Jensen turned on the television and was surprised when Jim Cantore from the Weather Channel appeared on the screen. Standing in downtown Oklahoma City, he talked about the winter storm that was still in the early stages, but was turning into one of the worst storms to develop since the earth changes.

Watching the track of the storm, Jensen decided it would be wise to wait out the worst of it. Pulling on his boots and coat, he trudged back to the office and paid for two more days.

The next morning, he got directions from the desk clerk, and went in search of fuel for the truck, a feed store to replenish his hay and grain for Delta, and food for Spencer. His last stop was the only grocery store he’d found still open. It was noon until he got back to the motel from his errands. He checked Delta before he and Spencer shut the door on the storm.

Most of the day was spent sleeping in fits and starts as the sounds of the storm and his own nightmares startled Jensen from sleep. It was close to dark when he and Spencer made their last trip of the day to the stable. They got the mare settled for the night, then they trudged back to the room.

The next morning was still blustery, but the snow seemed to have stopped though the clouds held promise of more. There were eight fresh inches, but the wind had blown much of the snow into drifts. The double edged sword was the snow was the light fluffy variety that easily drifted, and the drifts to a certain height could be pushed through. Giving the storm the chance to get further ahead of him, Jensen waited until checkout time to load Delta, making sure her heavy blanket was secure for the wind chill was wicked.

The desk clerk tried to talk him into staying another day, but now that he’d made the decision to return to the ranch, Jensen wanted to be there in time for Christmas.

It was slow going, and by the time he got to Wichita Falls, he was exhausted. They’d been lucky there was little traffic on the roads, but the wind had whipped up white outs and dumped drifts where you least expected them. Though it was long after dark, Jensen had pushed on until he found some place he could stable Delta after taking time to let her work a little on the lunge line. He fed Spencer and crawled into bed.

When Jensen looked outside his room the next morning, it was still overcast and windy. The storm had slowed, and all the weather forecasts called for stormy conditions, but it was Christmas Eve, and he still had 240 miles of poorly maintained county roads between him and the SC-KANE Ranch.

~@~@~@~

He parked the back of the trailer close to the barn door. The storm had gathered strength during the day, making the last leg of the journey a nightmare. Twenty miles back a drift had tried to suck the truck and trailer into a ditch, leaving everyone badly shaken. Jensen had bundled up and unloaded Delta carefully checking her for cuts and scrapes. After everyone was calmed down, Jensen loaded her back on the trailer, and crept the last few miles to the ranch.

Seeing the lights of the house had made his heart feel like it was clenched in a fist. The wave of loneliness that crashed through him made him gasp for breath. Steadying himself, he got Delta stabled next to Ojai. While tending the exhausted horse, he debated on whether to take his gear with him or leave it in the truck in case his appearance was less than welcome. He closed the barn door, and leaning heavily on his cane followed Spencer toward the house.

With shaking hands, Jensen pulled the chain from under his shirt that held his dog tags and a key. After several attempts he finally slipped the key home and opened the door. Always the protector, Spencer pushed by to run point. He stepped inside just far enough to shut the door. The warmth of the room sapped what little strength he had left. Jensen was thankful he had Spencer and his cane to keep him on his feet. Satisfied he wouldn’t fall on his face, he looked up and everyone froze.

Two voices stuttered brokenly.

“Jense?”

“Jenny?”

Guitars were hastily propped against the coffee table as Christian and Steve moved toward him dodging legs, boys and babies. Carefully they wrapped him in their arms, mindful of knocking him off balance. He felt the warmth of their breath as they buried their faces against his cold neck. He raised tired arms to wrap around their shoulders and used them as his balance simply breathing in the scent of home.

Jensen lifted his face from where he’d buried it against the light and dark halves of his soul to see the faces of his family smiling tearfully waiting their turn to welcome him home.

“Merry Christmas.” Jensen said.

“It is now.” Christian and Steve said together.

_**~ Fini ~** _


End file.
